


Say yes to the dress

by TinyThoughts



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion In A Dress, Like, Lipstick, M/M, NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sorry Not Sorry, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, but this is a lil filthy, damn tagging can be really freaking emberassing, geralt likes it, i am such a prude wth did i write this for, i usually dont write this but, its kinda hot shut up, kinda crossdress?, likes it a lot, no beta we die like renfri, ok i know why i wrote it, who knew the power of a good dress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyThoughts/pseuds/TinyThoughts
Summary: “Oh my, Geralt.” Dandelion all but purrs, doing nothing to push him away. “I never knew you were into dresses.”“Me neither.” Geralt says, pulling Dandelion against him, one hand snaking up towards his chest.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 159





	Say yes to the dress

**Author's Note:**

> I have been playing a lot of Witcher 3 lately and I can't get Dandelions colours out of my head.   
> Also Im a giant prude so this is a little odd for me to think up and write (and share omg) so I hope you will like it!   
> Please enjoy! <3

Geralt sits in a fine room on a very softly stuffed chair.

It is spacious and the air gives a soft hint of perfume. In the corner soft cloth rustles, the clear sounds of someone changing. Geralt's leg bounces impatiently.

“Come on Dandelion, what’s taking so long?” He says, eager to get away from here.

They have once again gotten themselves into a pickle. Or rather, Dandelion visited the wrong lady and thus a good part of the local lowlife were offered a good coin for his hide.   
It had been a good idea to use a disguise, very few would look for a woman when it is a man they were after. Albeit that the woman would not be the most attractive one, and have a hint of stubble, or have rather wide shoulders and no hips.

No matter, it was a solid plan and they are currently in the stages of finding a dress that would fit and preferably not make him shave his chest.   
Shaving would take hours…

Finally he hears movement and Dandelion walks out from behind the screen he had been changing behind.   
Geralt freezes.

The dress is the opposite of what they need. It is a rich pink hinting towards purple. The fabric looks thin, silky, soft and extremely touchable. Despite them talking about hiding the chest area the dress has a deep cleavage, showing off before mentioned chest hair and solid muscle.   
Geralt's mouth is dry, so dry, he wants to lick his lips but...

“I'm almost done, witcher dear.” Jaskier says, his voice decidedly not feminin but his hair hanging loose on his shoulders and his waist looks tempting and narrow under that entirely terrible dress.

“I just want to put on some kohl and some lipstick and then I should be done.” Dandelion leans over the vanity, back against Geralt.

He has an unrestricted view of the outlines of Dandelions ass, looking full and round through the soft material of the dress. Geralt has to physically restrict himself to not walk over there and lay his hands on him.

When Dandelion gets up again he has black framing his eyes, his lashes thick and eyes startlingly blue. His lips are matching his dress. He stands pointedly in front of Geralt, showing off his work.

“Tada?” He says, and Geralt's eyes rake up and down his body. “Will it do?”   
Dandelion slowly drags his hands over the dress, on the front of his chest where he somehow seems to have conjured breasts, and down to his sides over his hips.

Geralt's eyes follow them, he has a vague sense that his mouth hangs open but he is still frozen, unable to do anything about it. Geralt had expected a mediocre woman at most.

Dandelion crushed that expectation with the heel of his fine shoe.

“How did you get breasts?” Geralt asks and Dandelion looks down and cups them. Want burns in through his veins.   
“Oh, these?” He gives them a squeeze and Geralt senses his restraint hanging on to a loose, loose thread. “It’s stockings, filled with undergarments. I will need to find something to put over my shoulders however. I am a hairy man and I must admit I am rather fond of staying thay way.”   
Dandelion turns to look around the room.

Somehow Geralt is on his feet, powerless against himself as he approaches the poet, the bard, the lover, the bastard, whatever you wish to call him.   
He finds himself gripping Dandelion's sides, the fabric of the dress smooth and cold under his fingers and he pulls at it.

He is so close that he can feel the heat of Dandelion's body through his clothes.

“Oh my, Geralt.” Dandelion all but purrs, doing nothing to push him away. “I never knew you were into dresses.”   
“Me neither.” Geralt says, pulling Dandelion against him, one hand snaking up towards his chest .   
”You never showed me interest before despite my expert flirting. Is this how to get to you?”   
”I never acted on it before” Geralt admits.   
He drags his nose over the exposed neck, behind his ear and Dandelion draws in a shaky breath. His searching hand cups over the stocking breast, palms it, and then continues to dip into the cleavage.

The coarse hair on Dandelion's chest tickles, and he pushes on until he is under the silk, under the stocking. He strokes over the muscle, it’s firm and his hand passes over a pebbled nipple, fingers brushing against it.   
As he does, Dandelion pushes backwards against him and there is delicious pressure over his clothed but very, very awake cock. He hums, one arm firm around the other's middle now, lips brushing up and down over the soft skin where neck meets shoulder. A quick look over Dandelion's shoulder and he can see the fabric tent at his front.   
Someone is into dresses too, it seems.   
He smirks and lets hands slide back to his waist. With a firm grip pushes forward, walking them until they reach a wall. He press them against it, Dandelions warm body against his. His thigh presses between Dandelion's legs.

“Mmmh. Geralt.” Dandelion all but moans, putting his hands on the wall in front of him as leverage and pushes back against the witcher's body.   
Geralts hand falls down to Dandelions thighs and he grabs a hold of the dress and bunches it up. Revealing more and more of that pale thigh that hides there.

Dandelion turns his head and smiles, lips open, eyes heavy lidded and full of seduction.

“Like this, do you?” he says, leaning his head so that their faces are close, so close. “I want you to take me like this, darling. Leave the dress on, have me against this wall.” Dandelion purrs against his cheek, his ear, and Geralt shivers.   
He ruts up against Dandelions ass that’s just right there and is rewarded with a soft moan.   
The dress get caught between them, but Geralt has caught enough of it.

His hand caress Dandelions bare leg and finds the sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh. Higher and higher, he finds equally silky smallclothes, but with a wet stain in the front where his cock already weeps. Geralt strokes his cock, his balls and Dandelion gives a throaty sound.

It pulls something out of Geralt, something primal and needy.  
Something that tells him that this man, this bard, is his.

“Mine.” He growls, and bites down on the poets shoulder.

Dandelion moans and push Geralt away, skirts falling back over his legs...   
He turns around, eyes full of hunger.

“Yours” he pants and pulls the witcher against him by the collar, kissing him deeply.

This is easily the best kiss he has ever had, something he has fantasized about when the night was the darkest, the loneliest.

Geralt taste teeth, the roof of the poets mouth, he nips at lips and he licks into that heat that, finally, is only his.

He can feel Dandelions hands on his body, unbuttoning and unlacing.   
They part for them to push his tunic over his head, and Dandelion smirks.

“Lipstick suits you, darling.” And of course there must be smears on him as well. Dandelions eyes rake over Geralts body, and then his hands follow.

It feels so good, gooseflesh breaking on his arms and chest and all the way up in his hair.   
Geralt dives back in, pushing his fingers through the locks hanging loose on the bards shoulders, and pulls softly. Dandelion groans against the kiss, a shuddering breath breaking from him. Geralt can feel deft hands opening the front of his pants, but as he feels the cool air hit him he bats the hands away in favour of hoisting up the dress again.

Dandelion lifts a leg and hooks it around Geralt, letting him come closer. Geralt thrusts against him, Dandelion stuck between the wall and himself.

They moan at the contact and Geralt cant take it any more.

He lifts Dandelion up so that both of his legs are hooked around his waist, dress hanging around his hips.   
He looks wrecked, a right hot mess, and there is nothing else Geralt would like rather look at right now.

Unobstructed now he thrusts again, hips rolling with the movement. He could come like this. Hell, he is about to come from this. And if the sounds Dandelion is making is anything to go after he is not far away either.

“Please” the poet pants, arms around Geralt's shoulders.   
Geralt kisses him, lips greedy to taste. When they break off Dandelion makes a little whine at the loss.

“Please Geralt. Please I … I need you. I want you, please.” He pants.   
“Lube.”   
“Front pocket of my trousers.” Dandelion replies, entirely unsurprisingly.

His smirk is a dirty thing, and then his mouth falls open in pleasure when Geralt press against him.   
But only for a moment.   
They need that lube.

So Geralt lets Dandelion down on the floor again and he turns to retrieve the bottle.   
When he turns back, Dandelion leans against the wall, cock in han stroking himself up and down, dress hanging around him, the silky undergarment abandoned on the floor.

“Turn around.” Geralt growls. Dandelion obliges.   
“Hands above your head. I don’t want to see you finish without me.” Geralt says, voice low.   
Once again Dandelion obliges, but a bit reluctantly.

Geralt uncorks the vial and dribbles it over his fingers, feeling the oily substance between his fingertips as he rubs them together.   
He searches under the dress until he finds what he is looking for, that ring of muscles of which he will beg entrance.

The other hand he uses to hold Dandelions wrists together so he won’t be tempted. As he circles Dandelion's hole he bites and kisses his neck, marking him up real good. And then he press one finger inside, barely a digit. There is some resistance and Dandelion draws a tight breath.

“Breath for me, Julian.” Geralt says directly in his ear and the intense resistance slowly eases off around his finger.

“Good boy.” He purrs and Dandelion gives off a tiny moan.

Slowly he pushes his finger a little deeper, just another digit. He takes a moment to let Dandelion get used to it, then he draws his finger back out. And push it back in.   
Slowly fucking him with just the one finger, hungry for every sound, every move.

Then he push in a second finger, Dandelion writhing in his grip.

“You can do it. Look at you being so good for me, letting me in, letting me fuck you with my fingers. Do you like that? Do you like to feel my fingers inside of you?” Geralt surprises himself with talking. He never was a talker before, but on the other hand, he never wanted a man in a dress before, especially not his bard.   
“Do you feel me stretching you? Getting you ready?” He scissors his fingers, obscene sounds escaping from under the dress.

He wishes a little he could see more but there is something incredibly hot in not seeing it as well.

He slams his two fingers in as far as they can go and Dandelion gives a throaty moan.

“I'm getting you so wet for me, darling bard, and you will feel so full when I enter you.” Dandelion makes a little mewl and shifts so that his legs are further apart for better access.

Geralt smirks and bites and nips at his skin, kissing them soothingly when the skin turns an angry red.   
Then he introduce a third finger under that dress and push in deep. There is barely any resistance now, and when he hits a certain angle the bard tense up.

“There, right there!” Dandelion pleads, leaning his forehead on the wall, pushing back on Geralts fingers, spearing himself with them.   
Every time he meets that spot a little jolt goes through him.   
That is enough, Geralt decides and he slowly withdraw his fingers and his hands. 

Geralt pushes his pants down, freeing his aching cock.   
It feels so good, the dress against him a delicious feeling. He grabs the vial again and slicks himself up as he leans forward towards his bard.

“Are you ready?” He pants in his ear and Dandelion nods eagerly.   
“Yes. Fuck, yes Geralt, please, fill me up. Fuck me, I need you, I-” Geralt push away the dress so he can see the entire glory that is Dandelions ass.

He takes himself in hand and lines himself up.   
And push.  
Slowly, oh so slowly, he sinks into that heat.

Geralt finds that his hands are gripping at Dandelions hips a little too tight, that there might be bruises, but neither of them does anything about it.   
Seated inside they catch their breath. A small drop of sweat runs over Dandelions shoulder, down down down and then into his dress.   
Just as slowly Geralt pulls out again, but not all the way.   
He is searching for that sweet spot, the right angle to make Dandelion squirm and moan. He pushes back inside, holding back for all that he is worth.

“Fuck me Geralt.” Dandelion pants, and once again Geralt snaps.   
He sets a pace, short hard thrusts, unable to hold back anymore. He pants in Dandelions hair, on his neck, one hand on his hip and one around his middle.

“Ahh!”

There it is.   
Geralt focus to keep the right angle and Dandelion comes alive around him.   
Moans and begging for more, harder, just there. The bard squirms, like he is undecided if he wants to push back onto that sweet spot or flee from it. The dress falls between them again and Geralt yanks it up. He takes the hem of it and pushes it towards the bards lips.

“Bite this.” He instructs him, and Dandelion opens up, willingly biting into the dress to hold it out of the way.   
The thrusts get bigger, more frantic, and his hand comes around to grip the bards neglected cock.

It’s wet and dribbling, bouncing from the bard pushing back against every thrust.   
Geralt works Dandelion in time with their movement, and he can sense the bard reaching his limit.

He whimpers, throwing his head back, when Geralt circles up and down his shaft. Geralt himself is close, so close, but he wants the bard to come first. With his other hand he goes back into that cleavage, over that hairy chest and finds a nipple. He rolls it between his fingers, pinches it, and he licks the bards neck.

“Julian.” He pants. “Julian, my Julian.”

That does it.

Dandelion comes noisyly, a surprisingly big amount of semen bursting out of him despite his recent activities.   
Geralt fucks him through it, every movement bringing himself closer to the edge. One arm still holding him up against the wall, Dandelion puts his other hand on Geralts, who is still holding onto his cock. Makes him let go, lace their fingers together.

He let the hem of the dress fall from his open mouth, and he turns his face so that his painted lips touches Geralt's cheek.

“Geralt. My Geralt.” He whispers softly.

And Geralt's release hit him like nothing has before, it almost hurts.

He sees stars, he shivers all over, and he comes deep inside Dandelion, rope after rope. It’s been some time, and he thrusts through it, determined to make the most of it.

When they finally still, they pant together in the silence. Geralt hasn’t pulled out and Dandelion hasn’t done anything about it.

“That was…” Dandelion pants after a moment, squeezing Geralts fingers with his, still laced tightly.   
“Yes.” Is all Geralt can say. He feels wrecked, completely finished.

Dandelion tightens around him and Geralt moans.

“Easy.” Geralt complaints, but Dandelion just smiles.   
“How long until you can go again?” he whispers, lips dragging where he can reach on Geralt from the awkward angle.

Geralt huffs a laugh, but he already feels a stir of interest from his cock.   
“I want to see you this time,” He murmurs back, pulling his fingers free.

And then he pulls at the dress, now hopelessly stained. He pulls it upwards, and Dandelion shivers as it slides over his hot, sweaty skin.

Yup, Geralt feels himself getting hard again with alarming haste.

Dandelion moans, caught between trying to push back and to help getting rid of the offending garment.

“Fuck me again.” Dandelion moans.

They fuck three more times.

Once more against the wall, but by the time they are done Dandelions legs are shaky and almost giving out.

So they move to the floor. Face to face, first with Geralt between his thighs with a harsh, brutal rhythm.   
And then they kiss, and kiss.

And then Geralt takes Dandelion in his mouth and sucks him off, lapping at the foreskin and kissing at the pearl of precome at the tip.   
And just before he is about to come, Dandelion push him down on his back and rides him into oblivion.

Needless to say, they didn’t leave town that night. Nor did they leave the room. Or use the dress.

Hell, no one could use the dress after what they put it through.

It is stained with sweat and oil and semen.   
They find another dress in the room, and use that to sneak out. Nobody looks twice at the pair as they pass beneath the city gate without issue.

They kept the dress. A good washing and a rich lipstick, and they give themselves a treat every now and then on the path.

Dandelion stays true to their word.   
He is Geralts, and Geralt is his.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me at tumblr!   
> Im Dapandapod!  
> <3


End file.
